Unlike last birthday, where I hosted a sort-of party (except it really wasn’t a party. that was an excuse), this year I went out.<\/p>\n
Which turned out nicely and I bought a bunch of stuff (stuff that I may actually use for once!! wow) and transit is fun, I guess. It was pretty sunny, too. I also got advice from various people suggesting that maybe this year I’ll experience less sketchy happenings! and yeah I really hope so too, but at the rate that things have been going, probably not. But hey, it’s all for the best, right?<\/p>\n
Truthfully, I don’t know what to think about how I’ve progressed throughout these past years. When I was in grade 4 watching the awards ceremony at Brentwood, I remember thinking that one day I’ll be in grade 7, and I’ll have to be a part of the committees organizing events for the school. I’ll have to carry big binders and use tiny planners and speak to teachers and give speeches. I was a very terrified 9 year old. I remember thinking that by the time I got to grade 7 I’ll probably be much smarter and less nervous around adults. Of course, by the time I got to grade 7, none of that actually happened. The thing is, in the past I used to imagine myself in the future, like a kind-of preparation and goal. Like… in grade 8 I’ll be a big kid, and I’ll have to be mature! As of now, I honestly can’t remember anything from grade 8 (which is good. I don’t want to remember any of it).<\/p>\n
So I suppose I haven’t changed at all. I’m still scared of the future, and I’m still constantly unsatisfied with myself. I may be 16, but I sometimes think my mentality is aging in reverse. Which is concerning. I think that I’ve been relatively busy, and things happen in such quick succession that I don’t actually think about them much until it’s been a year or so. As such, I have trouble trying to absorb that… this is reality. This is the world I live in. The choices I made are mine. I say I reflect a lot, but it’s not truly that; it’s usually that I feel like dwelling and I want to briefly relive those feelings before returning to the present. But some things that happened late this school year are kind of hard to keep as just a sitting memory. I call it PTSD not as an over-exaggeration: sometimes I just can’t stop the torrent of memory.<\/p>\n